


Blow Me

by izzygone



Category: Entourage
Genre: Anal Fingering, Dom/sub Undertones, Drunk Sex, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Power Play, Roughness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-27
Updated: 2015-06-27
Packaged: 2018-04-06 12:38:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4222014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/izzygone/pseuds/izzygone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You want me to get down on my knees, suck your cock and beg for forgiveness?"</p>
<p>(set pre-season 7)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blow Me

**Author's Note:**

> Based during the TV series (I haven't seen the movie and I'm still on season 7 of the series, but you know how I roll).
> 
> Special thanks go out as always to my amazing beta, [Dragonzombie](http://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonzombie333).
> 
> Also, apparently I really like to write about sucking cock.

"What do you want, Vince? I said sorry like a hundred times already, I'm not saying it again." They were out back by the pool, and they'd each had more than a couple drinks and Eric knew, he just _knew_ this was going to end badly but fuck if he cared about TMZ right now, "What do you want? You want me to get down on my knees, suck your cock and beg for forgiveness?"

Vince was standing across from him, vodka-and-who-knows-what-the-fuck-else he’d just poured already half empty in his hands. He made a shrugging gesture, "Yeah, E, actually maybe that is what I want. Blow me and I'll forgive you," he didn't laugh and Eric absolutely hated him for it, "I could use an easy lay right now."

Eric choked for a second, "You know what Vince? Fuck you." He half-turned as he took a swig of beer, looking away so Vince wouldn’t see his face.

"What, E? You and I both know it's true. You'd let me fuck you in the pool right now if I said I wanted to."

There wasn't much he could do, Eric never could deny truth well, even to save his own ass, so he went with the "fuck you Vince, you don't know me" play and it was obvious, as usual, that Vince saw right through him.

"Yeah E, I do know you. So get on your knees and suck my cock." He was real matter-of-fact nonchalant about it, and that made Eric sweat.

Eric sputtered, he was floundering, called out on being mad for his best friend and no way to deny or make it untrue. The "fuck you Vince" sounded weak even to his own ears and he knew he needed to walk the fuck away right now before he did something to absolutely fuck up their friendship and then where would he be? So he started to turn, to get himself speedily to his room for a fast jerk off before passing the fuck out and pretending this never happened. But Vince downed the last of his drink and Eric was already fucked because Vince was doing that _one-handed-remove-shirt-like-a-stripper_ thing he did all the goddamn time, and suddenly Eric was watching a half naked Vince with a _I'm-hot-and-you-know-it_ grin and he was totally fucking lost. He squeezed his fist tight around the beer bottle like he wanted to break it, like it was the only thing holding him onto the world right now because he honestly had no fucking clue what else to do.

Vince didn't say anything, just narrowed his eyes on Eric, like he was really trying to focus as he ran his hand down across his abs, real slow, Eric's eyes following every motion, until he reached the button of his shorts and, with a flick of his wrist, released it.

Eric's mouth was dry, and thank god he had his beer which he gulped down in order to find his voice as Vince started working the zipper down on his fly, “Come on, Vince, don’t do this here.”

Vince ignored him, pants falling open at the top, revealing just the band of his Armani briefs, “If we’re doing this, E, we’re doing it here. We’re doing it now.” He shimmied his hips just so, and just like that, the pants were gone. Eric was staring at a nearly nude Vince, and he was pretty sure he’d been rendered speechless. Vince was hot in a classic way, all sculpted muscles and perfectly tanned skin, but that wasn’t really the thing that had Eric sweating like a guy caught beating off in Victoria’s Secret.

Vince was forbidden.

He was charming and seductive and sensual and totally off-fucking-limits.

Eric was hard. Honestly, he was usually half-hard around Vince to begin with, but right now, in this moment, he’d never been so fucking turned on. And it was wildly inappropriate. Vince was his best friend, his client, and he wasn’t actually interested in fucking Eric but rather in fucking _with_ him. Because this was a joke, it had to be. Vince was straight as a fucking arrow. And hell, Eric was, too. Except when it came to Vince.

“I’m gonna take these off,” Vince gestured to the Armani, “And you’ve got about 10 seconds to get on your knees and start sucking or you’ll never get an offer like this again.” Eric just stared at him, trying to fathom what in the fuck was happening to his life. Vince’s expression had changed. Gone was the shit-eating grin of the conquering hero, replaced by something far off and more genuine. Vince’s eyes were half closed, his mouth relaxed and just slightly open as he breathed in and out hotly. He ran his hand through his hair, tilted his hips just so. Seductive.

Holy shit.

Vincent Chase was seducing him.

Vince’s hands were skimming the band of his briefs, and he was giving Eric the kind of bedroom eyes only a movie star could get away with and still be taken seriously. He licked his lips, bit at the corner of one of them as he hooked his fingers under the band -- and that was it. Eric was on his knees praying, hoping to god Vince wasn’t just fucking with him, that this wasn’t an episode of _Gotcha!_ and Pauly Shore wasn’t going to run out with a crew of girl scouts. He dropped the bottle he’d been holding, and it rolled across the grass as he looked up at Vince. His expression had changed again. He was still hot, seductive as hell, but his lips curled up into something like a smirk, and his eyes were bright. He was feeling the rush of victory, and he dropped the briefs in a sweeping motion. And there it was. This was happening. Vince’s cock jutted out in front of him, hard and already leaking. Eric thought he might fall over with the knowledge that Vince actually wanted this.

They were both too drunk, too angry with one another over some shit Eric didn’t even remember now; they were outside and if a paparazzi decided to break an injunction and climb their fence right now, they’d be totally fucked, but honestly Eric didn’t really care. He was gonna suck Vince’s cock like he was trained for it.

Which he sort of was. He’d met a guy at a party in Williamsburg who had looked enough like Vince for him to get off on it, and he’d blown that guy enough times to know he was practically a professional.

And now he was going to show Vince what he’d been missing.

Vince didn’t move to him, of course not, because he wanted to see Eric on his knees. That’s what this was all about. So Eric crawled forward, knees wet from the grass but totally worth it to hear the hitch in Vince’s breath as he moved. Eric grabbed at Vince’s thigh, pulling himself up and looking right into Vince’s eyes. He was biting his lip again, and his fingers came to tangle themselves in Eric’s hair, so Eric wasted no more time. He leaned in, smelling the husky scent of _Vince Vince Vince_ and suddenly he was higher and drunker all at once. Like the time they’d shoplifted whip cream from the local bodega and sucked down the nitrous oxide for a crazy fucking fast high. Except Eric had a feeling this high was going to last a lot longer and the come down from it was going to be way harsher.

He licked the tip, catching the beads of precome there, and moaning because it was so good, so hot being on his knees in front of Vince, and _fuck_. Eric was going to get off on this. He’d probably get off before Vince did, and there wasn’t much point in feeling ashamed about it. Even if Vince made fun of him for a hundred years, this was already the best night of his life so far, and, god, wasn’t that the most pathetic thing? But Eric was too high, too hot, too drunk on the taste Vince’s precome to really give a fuck.

Vince’s fingers curled tighter in his hair, applying a little pressure, trying to guide him and Eric almost laughed. Vince always had been an impatient fucker. But this was Eric’s show now, and Vince was just going to have to settle in for the ride, so Eric ignored the pressured guidance and continued to lick, picking up salty precome and savoring it. Vince was uncut, which Eric found strangely hot and endearing, and he ran his tongue over the foreskin, tongue-fucking the crease there. The hitch in Vince’s breathing made it totally worth it, and Eric began to really explore. Vince’s cock was hot and flushed a dark pink, almost brown. Eric wrapped his lips around the head, swirling his tongue, opening his mouth wide enough to take it in -- Vince was well endowed enough to make him really work for it, and that knowledge was probably going to fuel every jack off fantasy he had for the next ten months.

With the freehand that wasn’t currently supporting almost all his weight against Vince and simultaneously preventing the movie star from just burying his dick in Eric’s throat, Eric reached up and fondled lightly at Vince’s balls, just teasing, just testing, and earned a soft moan. He wrapped that hand around the base of Vince’s cock, not applying a lot of pressure, but stroking, slowly, the parts he couldn’t reach with his tongue. Eric had done this before, but it’d been a long time since he deep throated anyone. Still, he wanted to do it for Vince. Wanted to show off his full skillset.

He took Vince as deep as he could, his whole face just stuffed with cock, and he couldn’t imagine how he looked right then. His jaw was stretched not quite to the point of pain, but definitely at fatigue level, though he couldn’t care any less about the strain. Vince grunted in surprise as Eric took him in, suddenly hitting the back of Eric’s throat, basically choking him with his dick, “ _Fuck_ , E…” His fingers were alternating tightening and relaxing in Eric’s blond hair and this was it, _yes_ , this is exactly what Eric had wanted his whole life. Vince was losing a little control, moaning like a porn star and Eric was honestly a little surprised he hadn’t shot his load just from the sounds, just from the knowledge that _he_ was the one causing those sounds, that _he_ was the one sucking Vince off, giving him pleasure. Not some size 0 groupie chick from the Valley, Vince wanted Eric _at last_. He was desperate to touch his own dick, fuck his own hand and get off hard and fast with Vince’s cock in his mouth, but he couldn’t. Didn’t dare release his death grip on Vince’s leg, he’d probably fall flat on his face, and his other hand was busy giving Vince pleasure, and Eric’s was nothing compared to that.

As he started to get used to the intrusion, rhythmically breathing in time with the subtle jerking motion of Vince’s hips as he tried to get further and further down Eric’s throat, Eric found himself able, finally, to take Vince all the way in. He moved his hand back to fondle Vince’s balls and leaned all the way in, taking Vince to the base, all the way down to his tastefully manscaped dark brown locks. Vince cursed above him, “Fucking fuck, E, where did learn this,” and Eric could only really grunt. His mouth was busy at the moment. He ran his tongue over the vein on the underside of Vince’s cock and had to hope it was clear that was code for _I learned it all for you_. Vince just cursed again and began putting a little more effort into the canting of his hips. Eric could deny him no longer, and just let Vince use his mouth for a little while.

A couple of minutes of Vince moaning, cursing and biting off Eric’s name, and Eric realized he really, _really_ , wanted to make Vince come. Like it was the only thing in the whole universe that mattered to him in that moment. He wanted to give Vince the best, most spectacular orgasm of his fucking _life_. He wanted Vince to remember this in the morning. He wanted Vince to never forget it.

So, casual as can be, Eric let his blow job get sloppy, let everything get real wet until his saliva and Vince’s precome were starting to pool around the base of Vince’s cock. When he had Vince good and distracted with the wet, hot heat of his mouth, he ran a finger through the mess, covering it in wet slick before sliding it down, behind Vince’s balls and over his perineum. Vince bit off a shout and suddenly gripped Eric’s hair a lot tighter as Eric just rubbed lightly, testing the waters and finding them not just safe but fucking _excited_. So he kept going, reaching just past, skimming his finger over Vince’s rim. Vince moaned Eric’s name, real low and dirty, and Eric decided giving Vince the best orgasm of his life wasn’t going to be so difficult after all.

It took a minute; Vince was tight and standing straight up wasn’t the easiest way to take a finger up the ass, but Eric was patient and his mouth gave a full effort distraction, so eventually they got there. Eric pressed in, and Vince keened, cursed and all but sang as a finger finally grazed his prostate, and _fuck_ , Vince was coming. He tried to pull Eric off, but Eric was having none of that. He earned this. This was his prize, and fuck if he was going to miss a drop of it. He was going to savor this moment and keep it in his spank bank _for life_. Vince seemed satisfied with this scenario as his hips bucked just a little wildly, spilling himself completely and letting Eric milk him dry.

Sometime during the orgasm, Eric had pulled his finger free, and that made it easy for Vince to back away, though he didn’t go far enough to make Eric release the grip on his leg, just giving him some space. Eric was hard, so fucking hard, _fuck_ , he’d never been so turned on in his goddamn life, and he didn’t have to think for even one second before releasing Vince to tug down his own pants, wrapping his hand around his cock for one pull, maybe two before releasing. Fucking _fuck_ , the sweetest goddamn relief he’d ever felt in his life. His eyes and mouth were still open, his whole face a little weak from his efforts, and he was staring at Vince the whole time he came before it was finally done and he couldn’t do anything else but lean forward until his head touched the dirt between them.

Fuck. Holy fuck. He just blew his best friend. And he got off so hard from doing it. This was a new low. Lower than the time he stole a pair of Vince’s boxers in high school and jacked off with them before burning them to ashes in a dark alley in Queens. Lower than the time he found Vince’s door open late at night and stared through the crack for 20 minutes, watching Vince fuck some rando. Lower than the other time he’d found Vince’s door half open, and took a fucking picture with his phone of Vince sprawled half naked and totally asleep above his covers. Lower than the time he jacked off to that photo 5 minutes after taking it and half regretted ever deleting it.

Something was broken in him. God. Fuck. Shit. Balls. He was in so deep. He was so messed up. This wasn’t healthy. He wasn’t going to cry over it, not here, in front of Vince, but it was a near thing. He could feel the tears welling just in the corners of his eyes, and this was totally un-fucking-acceptable. He sobbed, a quiet, broken sound when he felt the touch of Vince’s hand at the back of his neck.

“E,” His voice was low, and Eric could actually feel his breath, he was so close, “E, come on, get up. Come to bed with me.” Eric turned, his eyes meeting Vince’s and he couldn’t honestly understand what was happening. Vince was just kind of half smiling, and Eric thought this was all getting more fucked up by the minute, “It’s okay, E, you did good. Come back inside with me.”

He sat up, his mouth forming a small O in his disbelief. What was Vince saying?

Vince just smirked, that shit-eating, _I-could-get-anyone-but-I’m-choosing-you_ fucking grin back on his face as he reached down, lifting Eric’s chin, “Close your mouth or you’ll end up blowing me again right here,” and then he winked, actually winked in what could only be described in a mischievous manner before continuing, “And what I really want requires a bed.”

Eric’s mouth snapped shut and he was on his feet in record time. Definitely the best night of his life.

 


End file.
